


Brave Face Talk So Lightly (Hide The Truth)

by GingerAle3



Series: TMA Hurt/Comfort Week [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs a Hug, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Rated T for one swear word, Self-Worth Issues, Shaky Hands, TMA Hurt/Comfort Week, and he gets one bc it's MY story I get to write him getting hugged, jon is tired stressed hungry and hopped up on coffee it's a miracle he stayed steady this long, titles? summaries? tags? never heard of em
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerAle3/pseuds/GingerAle3
Summary: "Jon was perfectly fine.Peter was gone, London was slowly fading into a speck in the rearview mirror, Martin was next to him and safe and alive and here, everything was fine.So why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking?"
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: TMA Hurt/Comfort Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893973
Comments: 12
Kudos: 186





	Brave Face Talk So Lightly (Hide The Truth)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the TMA Hurt/Comfort Week on tumblr (themagnuswriters)
> 
> 24/8 - Monday  
> Self-Worth Issues / Pretend / Shaky Hands
> 
> No idea if I'll manage to get to the end of this event, but I'm sure as hell gonna try!
> 
> (Title from Sick of Losing Soulmates by dodie)

Jon was perfectly fine.

Peter was gone, London was slowly fading into a speck in the rearview mirror, Martin was next to him and safe and alive and here, everything was fine.

So why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking?

Tensing his jaw, he gripped the wheel tight enough that his knuckles started to turn white, trying to keep the tremor unnoticeable until it subsided.

It didn’t.

If anything, the more time went on, the tighter he gripped the wheel and more often he glanced over at Martin’s exhausted face to ensure that he hadn’t noticed, the worse it seemed to get. With London far behind them and nothing but the highway and endless green fields in every direction, it seemed to be spreading. His wrists felt unsteady, his shoulders were trembling, was his eyesight blurring slightly or was he just imagining things? He blinked hard to try and get rid of the bleariness, but even as he did so he felt the shaking travel up his neck and into his jaw. As he drove along, seemingly every muscle shaking, his teeth chattering, he suddenly became distantly aware of something. It sounded almost like a voice. It was saying something, but he couldn’t quite make out what-

“Jon!” He struggled not to jump as Martin’s voice cut through his spiralling thoughts. He sounded concerned, and a quick glance over confirmed that he was frowning. “Jon, pull over.”

Without a word, he nodded sharply and guided the car into the next layby, switching off the engine. Without it, the silence felt deafening, and his urge to break it clashed against his desperate need to not let Martin see how on-edge he felt. There was no need for it after all, no point, why in the hell would he be shaking? Martin was the one who went through hell and back, Martin was the one who was thrown into The Lonely, Martin was the one who had been manipulated for months on end with no-one to even talk to about it, so why would Jon be shaking? He had no right to complain. He swore he could almost hear his grandmother’s reprimands in his head, telling him that he should be grateful, asking if he has any idea how many people have it worse than him. What mattered in that moment was getting Martin as far from the Institute as possible, they didn’t have time to stop just because his hands were a little unsteady.

Martin’s hand tentatively rested on his shoulder, pulling him out of his own head, and he realised he was hunched over himself and trembling from head to toe.

“Jon? What’s wrong?” Nothing. Nothing at all was wrong, his grandmother’s voice scolded him again in his head, he had nothing to complain about. He had everything he could possibly ask for so why was he still shaking? Martin’s hand disappeared from his shoulder and he squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of unexpected pain from the loss of that contact.

“Martin, it’s nothing, I’m fine, I-” Jon’s attempts to wave off the unnecessary attention were cut off by both of Martin’s hands returning, this time carefully cradling his face and turning it towards him almost painfully gently. His eyes cracked open and immediately met with Martin’s, wide and clearly concerned. Jon glanced away, feeling the shame well up further. Wonderful, after everything else Martin had been through, now he had to deal with his selfish overreactions as well. Summoning up the courage to look into Martin’s eyes, he tried to summon the strength to speak. “...sorry.” Pathetic. After everything, that was all he could manage? Martin gaped at him and it took all of Jon’s control not to flinch away.

“Sorry?” Martin sounded stunned and this time he really couldn’t stop himself from flinching. Instinctively, he pulled back, tried to curl in on himself, but for all Martin’s hands were gentle as they framed his face, they were also firm and left him with no way to retreat. All he could do was sit and wait for the frustration and disgust to overtake the shock in his voice. “What in the world are you apologising for?”

Jon’s thoughts paused. That...was not what he’d expected. There was a long, silent pause as confusion seemed to overwhelm Martin just as much as it had him. Martin found his voice again before he had a chance.

“Jon...please tell me you aren’t apologising for being affected by all of this.” His voice was hesitant and quiet, and seemed to carry a muted sort of horror, as though the apology was something terrible and not the only reasonable thing to do considering his state. He swallowed and replied.

“I...suppose I was. It’s rather selfish of me after all. You were affected by this far more directly than I was, I have no right to hold us up because I’m feeling a little shaky.” He felt his voice turn bitter and mocking at the end and god, why was he still shaking?

For his part, Martin looked like he was at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed several times, the distress on his face growing each time, and Jon had to speak again.

“I’ll be fine. This happens sometimes, it goes away if I ignore it for long enough. I assure you, it’s only happening because I haven’t slept in a while. I suppose the coffee didn’t help either, or the fact that I haven’t eaten in…” Jon trailed off at that point, thoughtful. When was the last time he ate? “...anyway, it’s certainly nothing to worry about. I’m fine to carry on driving.” He forced confidence into his voice and tried to ignore the fact that Martin’s concern didn’t seem to have faded at all. In fact if anything, it had only intensified.

“Wait, wait, wait. Jon, when was the last time you actually slept?” Jon opened his mouth to answer, but before he could even get a word out, Martin cut him off. “I mean really slept, not just passed out for a few hours.” Jon closed his mouth. That was a very different question. The longer he thought about it though, the more Martin’s concern shifted into something deeper, so he quickly took a rough guess.

“A month?” Martin was back to shocked. Shit, too long. He should’ve picked something shorter. “No, wait, ignore that. A couple of weeks?”

“Jon that’s hardly better!” Martin pulled one of his hands away to run it through his hair distractedly, knocking his glasses slightly askew as he did so. He didn’t seem to notice. “You do remember that you’re meant to get 8 hours of sleep every night, right? That that’s a basic human requirement?” Jon couldn’t hold back the short, bitter laugh that ripped out of him at that.

“Yes, well, I’m not any more. I’m not human.” Saying it out loud always stung, but saying it to Martin was a sharp, twisting pain deep in his gut. Like the reminder would snap him out of this, send him leaping from the car and running from Jon as fast as his legs could carry him. He wouldn’t exactly blame him if he did. “Besides, I’ve had things to do, I didn’t have the time-”

Martin’s arms were around him before he had a chance to finish that thought.

The angle was more than a bit awkward, Martin was leaning sideways across the central console and twisting in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable, they were both still wearing their seatbelts and Jon’s face had ended up pressed a bit too hard into Martin’s shoulder to be comfortable for either of them. None of that stopped him from taking a shuddering breath and leaning into it. He was still shaking, but as he wrapped his arms around Martin’s back and twisted his fingers into his jumper, it finally started to lessen slightly. For a while they just sat there, holding each other tightly, but eventually Martin spoke.

“Right, I’m taking over driving and you are taking a nap. It’s not enough but it’ll have to do for now. We’re going to stop at the next service station we see, get you something to eat, a drink that isn’t caffeinated and a hotel room and you are going to get a full night’s sleep, got it?” Martin’s voice was a little shaky and quieter than it had been before, spoken straight into Jon’s hair where his own face had ended up awkwardly pressed, the warmth of his breath a comfort that Jon tried not to lean into too obviously. God, that sounded heavenly, so good he almost wanted to cry, but he couldn’t be a burden, not right now.

“That- that’s not necessary.” He knew his words were at odds with the way he clung to Martin like a rock in a storm, but he forced them out anyway as he tried to talk his fingers into loosening. “You don’t have to- to take care of me.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to, though. I want to take care of you, I want to see you happy, and safe, and without those bags under your eyes and definitely without you looking like you’re going to shake yourself apart.” Jon was not going to cry, he actively refused, he was already making enough of a fool of himself without turning into a mess of red eyes and saltwater.

“Why?” was the only word he could force out past the lump in his throat. One of Martin’s hands ran gently through his hair and he had to hold back a sob.

“Because I love you.” It was so matter-of-fact when Martin said it. I love you. Not ‘I care about you’ or ‘I loved you’ (a shiver completely unrelated to his tremors ran through him at the memory of how those words had sounded in Martin’s voice). It was said so simply, so obviously and bluntly, like he was just stating a blatant fact. Spiders are an important part of the ecosystem, humans need eight hours sleep a night, I love you. I want to take care of you, I want you to be safe, you aren’t a burden, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Jon feels he could hardly be blamed when the carefully contained sob ripped its way out of his throat and the carefully constructed floodgates broke in their entirety.

By the time they pulled apart, Martin’s shoulder was completely soaked through, and he apologised sheepishly as he wiped at his face. Martin huffed out a laugh and told him not to be ridiculous, before telling him to get out of the car so they could swap seats. It took a few more minutes before they could get moving again - Martin was notably taller than Jon, so it took some fumbling with the controls under the seat before he could sit comfortably without his knees getting bunched up next to his elbows. Before starting the engine though, Martin quickly dipped into one of his bags on the back seat, pulling out a jumper and wadding it up until it was roughly pillow-shaped. He handed it to Jon with a stern look and practically ordered him to take a nap. Jon’s immediate reaction was to fondly roll his eyes. It wasn’t quite that simple after all, sleep had always been an elusive beast, even before his life had involved cosmic fear entities. In spite of that, he decided to try for the sake of Martin’s peace of mind, not to mention avoiding a lecture about the merits of a proper amount of rest. The jumper ended up wedged between his head and the seatbelt, and he slightly curled to the side and closed his eyes. In truth, he was expecting to just lie there with his eyes closed until either Martin decided he was allowed to stop trying or they reached the next service station. As he leaned into it though, he took a moment to appreciate how soft it was, and the fact that it smelled like Martin, and as the car rumbled quietly underneath him, he figured it couldn’t hurt to let his mind drift for a minute or two…

The next thing Jon was aware of was Martin gently shaking him awake. He sat up quickly, blinking blearily, and Martin was clearly trying not to laugh at something. When he caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror, his hair was wild, his glasses at a nearly 45-degree angle and he had lines in the shape of the jumper’s knitwork embedded in his face. Martin laughed properly as he hopelessly tried to get himself into some sort of order, and grinned unashamedly when he shot him a look.

As Martin helped him out of the car, hovering and fussing when he swayed ever-so-slightly on his feet, he kept hold of the jumper. The sun was starting to set, and the wind that swept through felt like it went straight through him. Martin was checking a sign nearby and talking about options for food, but his own brain was still half-asleep and considering some very important information. The world is cold. He was in the world. That meant that he was also cold. The jumper, on the other hand, was warm. Therefore, if he was in the jumper…

“We should probably also grab some sandwiches and some bottles of water for the road if we’re driving all the way to Scotland, what do you...think?” Martin turned around and stared at the results of Jon’s careful contemplation. Jon was now utterly swamped in a jumper several sizes too big for him, sleeves reaching well past his hands and the hem brushing the tops of his knees. The pride at his own cunning solution to the problem of world-is-cold was completely overshadowed by a feeling of warmth and contentment, and the frankly besotted look Martin was giving him was certainly helping that. He hiked up one sleeve just enough for his hand to stick out the end, and took Martin’s in his own.

They stayed connected like that throughout their meal, holding hands across the table and eating one-handed. Jon hadn’t quite realised how hungry he was and ended up wolfing down his entire meal, along with half of Martin’s chips when he claimed he was full. From there, it was a short walk to the hotel and easy enough to book into a room. They got a double room. It hadn’t even crossed Jon’s mind that they might sleep in separate beds, and thankfully it didn’t seem to have crossed Martin’s either. He collapsed onto the bed almost the moment they reached the room, and it was only Martin’s urging that convinced him to kick off his shoes and socks and shimmy out of his trousers, though he bluntly refused to remove the jumper. Martin ducked briefly into the bathroom, coming out soon after in his boxers and a t-shirt that was baggy even on him. Jon made a mental note to steal it at some point in the future.

Martin collapsed into bed next to him, and Jon only hesitated a moment before reaching out to him. He hummed back sleepily, lifting an arm in obvious invitation, and Jon shimmied over until he was pressed firmly against Martin’s side, one arm draped across him and their legs slightly tangled together. He felt safe, warm, content, and so hopelessly overwhelmed with affection for this man he came so close to losing that day. Shuffling a little closer, he clung a little more firmly to Martin, who gave a deep sigh and pressed his lips to the top of his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace, but he couldn’t sleep just yet, he had to say something important.

“Martin?” The man gave a sleepy, affirmative hum. “I love you too.” He felt Martin smile where his mouth still rested against his head. Nothing else needed to be said. Safe, content, and together, they drifted off to sleep.


End file.
